Buff birding

An eventful weekend.  The plan was to head to Scilly for the day.  Silly indeed.  A spontaneous trip planned for an early departure from Newquay with, by association, an even earlier start from London.  The drive was quick, I mean, four hours to Newquay Airport.  That's the catch with drives to Cornwall.  Do them at night when everyone is in the pub or in bed.

I was knackered already, waiting to board the flight.  But the announcement came.  Flight cancelled.  Aircraft had gone 'tech' (as they call it the industry).

Full refund received and off I went.  Back in the car and no plan.  One thing was certain.  I had a hotel room booked in Newquay.

So obviously I headed down to Porthgwarra.  Made sense as it was only an hour and twenty minutes away.  Cornwall tapers, and my goodness it tapers with mileage.

It was breezy, the sun came and went.  As did the rain.  Horizontal at times.

But it was sunny when I arrived and that made me happy.  A few flowers were still in bloom, smiling at the sunshine.  Small Copper were busy.  Flirting recklessly with the flora.

There were Red Admiral, Peacock, and Small Tortoiseshell too.

I went to watch the sea,  Well not the sea per se, but seabirds flying over the sea.  And just about.  Barely skimming the tumult, waves bowing down to the cliffs that stood imperious before them.

Gannet poured through, some in singles, and often seen in groups.  Feeding parties.  Neatly folded arrows piercing the sea at speed.  The sight.  The spectacle.  Astounding.  The sun continued to shine.  Parties of Manx Shearwater flowed through, the gate lifted to the open seas.  Hundreds of them.  There were Kittiwake, Guillemot, and Shag too.  Nothing rarer.  I worked hard for it for a few hours.

I ate some cake, and drank some tea.  I had a sleep.  Then a second visit up to the cliffs.  A wader battled the wind as it flew past me.  Bins were up.  Mind working overtime.  It looked like a Buff-breasted Sandpiper.  The bird burned into a brilliant background as it disappeared over a small ridge.  Within moments, it was picked up again.  A rare bird and wholly unexpected.

The next day, far less eventful.  But it rained, and the wind blew with rage.  I got an all day full english soaking.  Soaking number one, seawatching at Trevose Point, with more Manxies and Gannet, a couple of Sandwich Tern and Kittiwake.  There were waders here too.  Fifteen Bar-tailed Godwit, with a Ruff in tow, Oystercatcher, Curlew, and Turnstone.

Soaking number two.  A drive to sodden Chipping Sodbury for a soddin Shrike that I got drowned for.  This soaking was epic.  But the juvenile Woodchat Shrike showed after the storm, and so did a tidy male Common Redstart.  At least three hardy Whinchat were present, and a Common Whitethroat probably wished it had left early..